


When in Hawaii.....

by brooklyn09



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clothing, Crack, Hawaii, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklyn09/pseuds/brooklyn09
Summary: Greg wears an eye-catching shirt. Mycroft can't help but notice.





	When in Hawaii.....

**Author's Note:**

> From the 2/4/18 prompt from @writeodome on Tumblr - “Write a piece in which a character’s tastes are questioned.” A picture of the shirt this story is based on is on my Tumblr page, @lilynevin.

Mycroft was lounging lazily in the hammock at the edge of the beach. He and Greg were taking a mini vacation in sun drenched Hawaii. Crystal clear blue water, bright sunshine and sand. Each hour they were here, Mycroft could feel the tension that had accumulated in his shoulders and back over the past several months oozing out of his pores. They needed to do this more often. Life wasn't all about work anymore, now that he had someone special to share his life with. 

Mycroft looked at his watch, and wondered where Greg was. When he last saw him in their villa, before he came down to the beach, Greg had said he would only be a minute. That was twenty minutes ago. Mycroft shifted in the hammock and turned his eyes towards their accomodations. His mouth fell open in astonishment. As Greg approached, Mycroft had to shield his eyes with his hand. Greg was wearing a garish orange shirt. With what looked to be birds adorning the front. 

"Hey gorgeous! You aren't getting too much sun are you? You're starting to look a little pink."

"Gregory?"

""Yes, love?"

"What on earth is that on your shirt?"

Greg furrowed his brow and looked down his front. He was hoping he hadn't spilled toothpaste or something. 

"What, I don't see anything?" replied Greg, grabbing the ends of his shirt and pulling it up to his face for closer inspection. 

"Gregory, I'm talking about your actual shirt. It's hideous!"

"You don't like my shirt?" queried Greg with a pout. 

"Not especially. It's orange! With birds on it!"

"They're Macaws. Tropical birds. We're in the tropics!" 

Greg went to sit on Mycroft's lap. Gingerly. These hammocks were tippy! Mycroft wiggled over, giving Greg some more room. Mycroft felt the material of the shirt and noted it was very soft. Kind of a silly texture. And Greg smelled marvelously intoxicating. He was wearing the cologne Mycroft bought for him, a citrus spice scent. Mycroft moved his fingers deftly under the hem of the shirt, tracing the edge of Greg's swim shorts. He ghosted his fingers up Greg's stomach, to his pecs, and swirled his fingers through the light dusting of chest hair there. Greg squirmed under his ministrations.

"Need I remind you My, this is a public beach. Don't start something you can't finish."

"Hmm. I'm afraid I owe you an apology darling. This shirt is actually kind of enticing. The feel, the fit. Enough room for me to move my hands underneath." Mycroft removed his hands from inside the shirt and slowly began popping open the buttons, one by one, until it was spread open before him. "You are absolutely delectable Gregory." 

Greg licked his lips and shifted a little more in the hammock, his hardening erection straining against his shorts. Mycroft ran his hands down Greg's chest, cupping his manhood in his hand. Greg exhaled, closing his eyes and color flushed his cheeks. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown, showing only an outline of brown. He then abruptly jumped out of the hammock, grabbing Mycroft by the hands.

"C'mon you big tease," he growled. "I'm ready to explode. We need to take this somewhere more private."

"As you wish, my love," purred Mycroft, getting out of the hammock. Greg's shirt, still unbuttoned, began to fall off his shoulders, so he went to remove it the rest of the way.

"No! Please!" stuttered Mycroft. "Please, keep it on. I find it's actually kind of working for me, bold colors and all. As they say, when in Rome...."

Greg giggled and pulled Mycroft to him for a slow, sensual kiss. They made their way hand in hand back to the villa, and Mycroft vowed to himself never to question his husband's tastes again.


End file.
